


Nobody Likes a Sick Baby

by KaleidoScopeOfIce



Category: Antisepticeye - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye
Genre: ABDL, Age Regression/De-Aging, Caregiver headspace, Caregiver!Anti, Caregiver/little, Caretaking, Chicken Noodle Soup, Daddy headspace, Daddy!Anti, Frustration, Little Headspace, Little!Jack, M/M, Medicine, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Scolding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 00:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14484348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaleidoScopeOfIce/pseuds/KaleidoScopeOfIce
Summary: Daddies can get mad too, especially when their babies neglect to take care of themselves...





	Nobody Likes a Sick Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Plutonic_5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plutonic_5/gifts).



> This is a gift for the loverly Plutonic-5 <3 They had requested this specific scenario for Little!Jack and Daddy!Anti, and I was more than happy to write it :D

“Jack, I swear to God, if you sniffle one more fucking time, I am personally going to blow your goddamn head off!”

Jack rolled his eyes at Anti's threat, grabbing another tissue and blowing noisily into it. He had recently been on a sneezing fit, and possibly under the weather as well. Though the Irishman was convinced it was just “allergies”. His constant sniffling seemed to be irritating the hell out of Anti.

“It'll pass, so just chill the fuck out, Anti,” Jack sniffled again, wiping at his nose before depositing the used tissue into a wastebin.

“You're getting sick, dumbass. I know the difference between physically sick and allergies. This is not fucking allergies,” the demon grumbled from his place on the couch. “This is what you fucking get when you don't take care of yourself properly.”

“What are you, my mom now?” Jack leaned over the couch to glare at Anti.

The question itself made the tips of Anti's ears blush hot pink. Jack certainly wasn't wrong. Anti was technically his caregiver, but bringing it up when neither of them were in the right headspace didn't always bode well for the situation. The demon grumbled and rolled off of the couch, stomping off and muttering something about being alone.

\-----

The days rolled by and Jack seemed to grow worse and worse. He was definitely getting sick, but still not acknowledging it.

And it was frustrating Anti even further. But of course, hidden underneath that frustration was also concern.

He was in the kitchen, going through the cabinets and looking for Jack's secret stash of chocolate covered coffee beans, when he heard hoarse coughing coming from Jack's recording room. Anti's ears pricked up, listening to the ailing Irishman on the verge of coughing up a lung. He could physically hear the gunk clogging up Jack's windpipes, and it was honestly very painful for him to listen to it. Heaving a heavy and very irritated sigh, Anti abandoned his search for the hidden goods and floated his way up to Jack's recording room.

He found the youtuber in his chair, as usual. Jack was still in a coughing fit, hunched over and looking like he was just barely clinging to life. It made Anti grimace. But he approached the Irishman, and immediately grabbed his arm, pulling him out of his chair.

“W-Wait--” Jack started, trying to get his breath back.

“No, you're fucking done for today. Now you're getting your fucking ass into bed and you're gonna stay there. You're clearly sick as shit, and you _still_ aren't fucking getting it through your damn head!” Anti complained, tugging Jack along and out of the room. He was surprised he didn't hear any retort in response.

The demon continued to drag Jack down the hall, to Jack's bedroom...when Anti suddenly heard sniffling behind him.

He stopped in his tracks.

The brown-haired man was crying.

Anti loosened his grip on Jack's wrist and faced him. “Hey, what's wrong?”

Jack tried to hide his face, beginning to cry softly. “I-I'm sorry....S-Sorry for m-making you angry, Daddy...I'm...I'm sorry...”

Shit.

_Shit._

In his anger, Anti hadn't even realized that Jack had slipped when he had confronted him in the recording room. His heart thumped madly against his chest, panic quickly rising within him as he took hold of his boy and held him close. Fuck, he had scolded Jack while he was in his headspace, and had treated him roughly on top of that.

Anti's heart continued to race. He messed up. He messed up big time.

“Sssshhhhh, no no no no no, don't be sorry, baby. You did nothing wrong. You did absolutely nothing wrong,” the demon did his best in comforting the Little. “I shouldn't have gotten mad at you. Daddy's just...” He sighed. “Daddy was in a very bad mood, because his precious bug was getting sick and he was upset that his bug wasn't taking care of himself....”

Jack sniffled against Anti's chest. “A-Are you...are you still mad?”

Anti held Jack closer. “No, sweetheart. Daddy's not mad anymore. Daddy is very scared though. He's very worried that you're sick. And Daddy wants to see you get better, okay?”

He felt Jack nod, and he gently petted the Irishman's head, running his fingers through the boy's brown locks.

“Now, let's get you in bed. Daddy's gonna make you some soup. Doesn't that sound nice?” Anti had his arm wrapped protectively around Jack's shoulder, as they made their way to the Little's room. He noticed that Jack had already started sucking on his thumb.

“Can I...can I have chicken noodle soup...please?” the brown-haired man quietly asked, his question muffled by his thumb.

Anti placed a kiss onto Jack's temple. “Of course, my little bug.”

\-----

It took some time, but Anti finally managed to get Jack into his bed. He had the Irishman sitting up, propped up against a big pillow with an assortment of toys for him to play with as Anti got the soup ready.

For the demon, it was just the cutest, most heart-warming sight to see as he walked in with a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup. Jack was playing with two of his stuffed animals. A minty green colored teddy bear and a hot pink kitty cat, which he was making them bounce across his blanket covered legs, as if they were going on a journey. He was still sniffling, but sucking eagerly on his baby blue pacifier, just immersing himself in his play time and not focusing on being sick and miserable. Anti set aside the bowl of soup, before bringing something into view that caught Jack's attention.

It was a bottle of cough syrup.

Anti sat down on the edge of the bed, opening up the bottle and getting a spoon. “Okay bud, now I know that this is gonna taste gross, but--”

“Noooooooooo!” Jack immediately protested; his pacifier falling out of his mouth as he whined.

“Jack--”

“Nooooooooooooo! I don't want it!”

Anti sighed. “C'mon, ya stinker, it's just one spoonful. Then after that you can have some delicious soup, okay? And then maybe we'll watch one of your favorite cartoons. How does that sound?”

Jack was pouting. Full on pouting with the lower lip out as pathetic as he could look. Anti rolled his eyes, pouring the gooey purple liquid into the spoon and guiding it to Jack's mouth. “Open up, ya little bugger.”

The Irishman grumbled, keeping his mouth shut, even as Anti pressed the spoon closer.

“Jack...” There was a slight warning tone in Anti's voice. He wasn't a huge fan of whenever Jack gave him an attitude while he was in this headspace, but it was to be expected. “C'mon Jack. Please? For Daddy? Don't you wanna make Daddy happy?”

The Little continued to whine, until Jack finally caved. As soon as his mouth was opened, Anti issued the medicine in.

“Good boy,” Anti praised, gently ruffling Jack's hair as he put the bottle away. “That's gonna make you feel so much better. Though it probably still doesn't taste good, does it?” he asked with a chuckle.

Jack merely replied with a pitiful whine.

“Okay okay, you've been so patient, babydoll. Let's get some food in ya now.”


End file.
